


Could This Be Enough

by shipatfirstsight



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Hapi Mari AU, Happy Ending, I Tried, I'm Bad At Summaries, Leia and Hux and Anakin and Phasma all make appearances, Marriage of Convenience, Mild Sexual Content, Rey Kenobi, Sexual Content, Strangers to Lovers, background finn/poe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipatfirstsight/pseuds/shipatfirstsight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey agrees to an arrangement with Kylo Ren at the behest of his grandfather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could This Be Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinda_shipping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinda_shipping/gifts).



> Based on the manga Hapi Mari?! (cause I love it basically). Title from "That Would be Enough" from Hamilton, which I listened to on repeat while writing this. 
> 
> Alternatively titled: That time Anakin arranged a marriage between two strangers cause he wants the Kenobi and Skywalker lines joined, you feel?

Rey is almost finished with work for the day when Phasma, one of the senior lawyers at the firm, comes over to her desk, which absolutely cannot be a good sign. Phasma didn’t come over to praise people with any frequency, and with the way Rey’s week had been going (having to choose between buying enough groceries or paying her _many_ bills, and that was just the tip of the iceberg) she didn’t think she was going to be the exception to the rule.

“Mr. Ren wants to see you in his office before you leave,” the woman says. Rey smiles at her, nodding her understanding, but the older woman’s expression remains impassive. Phasma fixes her with a look that tells her to move it and just do what she told her to before she turns and strides back to her office right next ‘Mr. Ren’s’ office.

Rey sighs, pushing her chair back and staring at Kylo Ren’s office all the way on the other side of the room. She was going to be fired, she knew it; it wasn’t that she was bad at her job, but she was only working there so she could put herself through college, so maybe she hadn’t been putting in enough effort. There had been a couple of times when she’d been asked to come in to file cases and she’d had to say no because of class work. She was going to have to find another job, and try not to starve in the meantime and hope that her electricity or water wouldn’t get shut off. Tears prickle her eyes, but she fights them back; she won’t let them see her cry. Later, when she’s alone in her apartment, she’ll let the tears fall, but until then she’s going to keep her head up. It doesn’t matter how much she loves her job, or how hard she was working so she could stay there permanently. She was going to have to resign herself to leaving.

Phasma is still staring at her pointedly through the glass walls of her office, waiting for her to actually get up and do what she was told. So Rey stood, even if she stood on shaky legs, rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms over her skirt. She wishes she had time to dash into the restroom and make sure she doesn’t look as tired as she feels or that the tears aren’t evident in her eyes. Self-consciously, she runs a hand over her hair, checking to make sure her three buns are all in place. The door’s getting closer, and she tries to slow her gait down; she’s not ready to be fired, she’s not ready to leave this place. There’s a lump in her throat that won’t go away no matter how much she tries to swallow it down. Through it all, she can feel the rest of the office staring at her back, well, the people that are still left, anyway. Her hand shakes when she raises it to knock on the door, hesitating with her fist raised for only a moment before she knocks once, firmly.

“Come in,” the deep voice comes through the door. She pushes it open, closing it behind her quickly. Kylo Ren is there leaning against the front of his desk, his legs looking impossibly long stretched out in front of him. It’s not the first time she’s seen him, but it’s the first time she’s seen him up close; his hair is the floofiest thing she’s ever seen, and she wonders wildly if that’s why he never spends any time out of his office unless he’s going to a case. He doesn’t look up at her, doesn’t even seem to register that she’s stepped into the room, focusing on the paper in his hand, and she really can’t stand that. If he’s going to fire her, she wishes he would just get it over with, so she can leave and go home and cry in peace over her four dollar bottle of wine, what was left of it anyway.

Rey swallows again, striding across the room toward him, stopping behind one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Sir?” she asks, hoping that he doesn’t hear the way her voice cracks over the simple word. The question makes him look up at her, so she marks it as a semi-success even if at his attention dread fills her, knowing she’s shortened the inevitable. Maybe she should have just waited for him to notice her in his own time.

“Rey,” he acknowledges and then pauses, visibly giving her a once over, eyes raking from her head to her feet and she squirms under the attention, before he sighs, “You’ll do I suppose.”

She sputters, indignation leaving her silent and furious. She’s just opened her mouth, ready to ask him what the _hell_ he meant by _that_ , damn the consequences since she’s going to get fired anyway, when the door opens behind her, a quiet shuffle of feet signaling that someone else has entered the room. Rey whirls, intent on asking the newcomer to give them two minutes so her boss can just fire her already, but pauses when she sees the man who’d stepped in. She recognizes him immediately—it’s Anakin Skywalker, one of the three founders of Amidala, Skywalker, and Kenobi Law, even if he does look a little different, older and more tired—less happy—, from the picture of him on the wall. Maybe it’s that in the picture his wife and his best friend flank him. He looks…incomplete without them surrounding him.

But Rey really has no idea what the _fuck_ is going on now. Last time she checked, getting fired did _not_ warrant a visit from the last surviving, reclusive, founder of the law firm, so she could not even begin to understand why Anakin Skywalker was walking toward her. His presence was not necessary; if he was trying to stop the blow, it wasn’t working. He certainly should not be wearing a smile if he was about to fire her, stretching his hand out to grab hers from her side and shake it energetically.

“Ah, Rey Kenobi. You’re the spitting image of your mother, I must say. Good thing, too. You wouldn’t have wanted to inherit your father’s looks,” everything he says comes out with authority and surety, teasing like she’s an old friend.

“Thank you?” she says hesitantly, throwing a look back at Kylo to gauge his reaction to all of this. His face is an impassive mask, but he’s gripping his desk in his hands, his knuckles gone white. Rey turns back to Anakin when he finally drops her hand, still smiling at her. “What’s this all about?”

Anakin looks back at Kylo before swiveling his gaze to hers. “We have a proposition for you,” he hedges, guesting over to the small sitting area. Kylo moves ahead of them, sitting down on the couch. Anakin pushes her over to sit close to her boss, and he sits in the single chair. “How are you liking the job?” he asks, instead of answering her question.

“I like it,” she answers quickly and honestly, focusing solely on Anakin. “I’m learning a lot. It’s an honor to be working here.” _Please, please don’t fire me. Please, please, please._

“Your grandfather was an incredible lawyer,” Anakin says, smiling fondly at some memory, shaking himself after a moment. “He would have been proud of the work you’ve done so far.”

She has to clear her throat and blink a few times to will away the tears that have formed there; she doesn’t care if it’s true, really, it’s just so nice to hear, and maybe, she hopes, maybe she isn’t getting fired after all. “Thank you, sir,” she finally manages to get out. “I never got the chance to meet him.”

“He was a good man, a good friend,” Anakin smiles sadly as he says it, and it looks like his mind is suddenly elsewhere. Rey doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to comfort the man in front of her.

“Grandfather,” Kylo hedges, and her gaze flashes to him for the first time since they sat down. He looks impatient, fingers drumming on the sofa arm. Her earlier surge of hope crashes as quickly as it came; she’s getting fired after all. “Can we get on with it?”

“Of course,” Anakin says, sounding all business suddenly, giving himself a good shake. “Rey, you may not know this because its not common knowledge, but Kylo is my grandson.”

She can’t stop the startled gasping noise that comes out her throat at that. She knew of course that Anakin had a grandson; she’d just never imagined that it would _Kylo_ , her boss, or that she worked in close proximity to someone related to Anakin. She’d never so much as seen a picture of his grandson, but she knew his name was _Ben Solo_ not Kylo Ren. Rey had thought until that moment—had been told by some of the other workers—that none of Anakin’s family had been interested in joining his firm, but maybe that only applied to his children. She has absolutely no idea what to do with this information, or how it pertains to her in any way.

Anakin presses on, though, hardly giving her a chance to get over her initial reaction. “Kylo’s basically taken over the company in all but name. However, the board feels he should have a partner and his grandmother was very clear in her will that he could not inherit while single. And if he doesn’t inherit we will have to bring in a new member.”

“I don’t understand. What does any of this have to do with me?” she’s more confused than she’s ever been in her entire life, and she just wants them to fire her already. She was sure it couldn’t possibly be _this_ difficult to fire someone, even if they were the granddaughter of one of the founders of the firm.

“I asked my grandfather to find me a suitable wife,” Kylo cuts in bluntly, “I don’t have time to go out looking for a suitable partner, and he’s ready to retire. I’m not willing to give up the family legacy, so I have to get married.”

“Wife?” she asks dumbly, looking at Kylo with her brows raised. She still doesn’t understand what any of this has to do with _her_.

“Rey,” Anakin says softly, drawing her gaze over to him. “I have chosen you to marry my grandson, if you’re willing to accept.”

“I—I don’t understand,” Rey speaks slowly, running his words through her mind over and over again, and she’s just so happy that it doesn’t seem like she’s getting fired that she can’t even begin to process the words Anakin is saying.  

“I promised Obi Wan that if anyone he loved was ever in trouble I’d help them out in any way I could,” Anakin explains. “He left the firm behind so you never got the inheritance you could have gotten. If you marry my grandson, your debts will all be paid off. You can continue school worry free.”

“I’m not in trouble,” she protests, hanging her head even as she feels both men looking at her in disbelief. She doesn’t know how they know, but somehow they do know. She’s not in the best financial situation.

“It’s mutually beneficial,” Kylo cuts in, looking incredibly uncomfortable with all of it, as though that was supposed to comfort her. “You would be made partner once you finish school and pass the bar.”

“What else would this marriage entail?” she finally questions before rushing to add, “I’m not saying yes, I just want to know what I’m agreeing to.” Rey sees Kylo nod his head in approval out of the corner of her eye, but she focuses solely on his grandfather.

“You would be expected to live together, just in the same house that is, and keep up appearances in public. Attend any galas together, that sort of thing. Aside from that, it would be up to the two of you,” Anakin answers, clasping his hands together over his knee.

“How long would we be expected to stay married?” she presses; if this is an easy thing, married and then divorced so he can have his inheritance and she can have her debt paid off, it’s not that difficult of a decision.

Anakin hesitates before answering, his gaze flickering over to his grandson for a single moment. “Again, that’s largely up to you. However, Kylo will not receive his full inheritance until you’ve been married for a period of three years. You’d be expected to sign an agreement that you’ll stay married at least that long.”

“When would I need to decide?” she needs time to think; she can’t just agree to this arrangement with no thought. She thinks dolefully of her empty cupboards and nearly empty fridge. She can’t let that influence her decision, though, not over something so huge.

“Soon,” Kylo’s voice draws all her concentration to him in what is quickly becoming a pattern. “I have a week to marry.”

“A week,” she repeats in disbelief. “Couldn’t you have asked me sooner? I can’t—that’s not enough time. This is a major life decision.”

“I wasn’t sure I wanted to be forced to get married,” Kylo says, anger tinting his tone.

“I don’t think this is a good idea—“ she starts to say, but Kylo grabs her hand and the shock of it stops her cold. She looks up at his face even as he moves closer to her on the couch, still clutching her hand. Rey can’t look away from him, from his eyes.

“Please,” he whispers finally. She nods her head, unable to speak.

“Ah, wonderful,” Anakin pipes in, clapping his hands together once, the sound of it filling the room. She doesn’t look over at him, though, unable to tear her gaze from Kylo’s. “So you both agree then?”

“Yes,” she states, her voice wobbling over the word a little, wondering if it’s too late to catch it and swallow it back down. She steals her resolve. She was going to do this. She could do this; it would be so much easier to focus on her schoolwork if she wasn’t constantly wondering where the hell her next meal was going to come from.  

Kylo smiles at her, a small sardonic twist to her lips as he addresses Anakin, sounding completely resigned, “I’ll do what I must grandfather.”

* * *

Two days later, marriage certificate in hand and a quick trip to the judge, Anakin the only witness to the ceremony, she’s Rey Solo. A married woman—married to one of the most powerful lawyers in the city no less. It’s strange, and really she’s married in name only. She has no ring on her finger (though Kylo tells her he’s going to rectify _that_ issue), no love for her groom, no knowledge of him beyond his two names and the rumors she’s heard through work. The ceremony was quicker than she ever imagined it being, over before she’d even really processed that it had begun. Kylo kisses her, a small barely-there peck on her lips, and then it was over. Married that easily. This was never what she imagined when she thought about getting married one day. Never in her wildest dreams would she have pictured herself marrying someone she barely knew for money. She’d never pictured having to sign a contract saying she would be married for a certain length of time either, yet somehow that was the reality she was living.

Anakin takes them out for dinner afterwards, ordering them champagne and toasting to their happy marriage. Rey drinks too much, trying not to think too much about what she’s done. She feels sleepy by the time the three of them bustle out, Kylo’s hand wrapped around her wrist like an anchor. Anakin pushes them into a cab together, saying that he’ll catch the next one. For the life of her, she can’t remember the car ride. She was pretty sure she fell asleep on Kylo’s shoulder at some point between the restaurant and his apartment, which was really a shame because it was _her_ apartment now too, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to see it.

She wasn’t sure which of them had arranged it, but movers had blown through her tiny apartment, packing up her meager belongings and taking it over to his place along with all her clothes, with the exception of the dress she’d laid out for their wedding, of course. It was weird to have everything done for her.

Anyway, she woke up to the feel of rocking, cradled against a body, arms wrapped firmly around her. She cracked one of her eyes open, and sure enough, Kylo was carrying her—bridal style, no less—over the threshold of what had to be her new home. She closed her eye again, snuggling against his chest in her sleepiness. She was asleep before he’s crossed ten feet into his home.

* * *

Rey wakes up in a strange bed with a pounding headache. The sheets and comforter most definitely did not belong to her—the bed was at least a queen size, and her bed was a twin. The window was on the opposite side of the room from hers, and there were _curtains_. Curtains were a luxury she did not have; blinds, sure, but _curtains_? She wasn’t going to waste time on something she didn’t feel was necessary. All in all, she had no fucking idea where she was or why she was there.

And then the events of the previous two days hit her all at once, the realization making her flop back down in the too-soft bed. Rey rubs at her eyes, trying to build the courage to leave the safety and comfort of the bed to possibly have to face her _husband_. Which was just all kinds of weird to think about. With a deep sigh, she pushes herself out of the bed, taking in her surroundings. The room was relatively bare, only her boxes pressed up against one wall. They barely took up any space in the large room, which she was pretty sure was the size of the entirety of her old apartment at least. His home had to be huge if this was the size of a single room.

She gets up, padding over to her suitcase. At least they’d gotten married on a Friday—she has the whole weekend to process before she has to go back to work or school again. She pulls out jeans and a t-shirt and grabs her bag of shower stuff, figuring that he’ll have towels that she can use. Slipping out of the room as quietly as she can she darts down the hallway, figuring she’ll find the bathroom easily, which she does, since the door to it is open. Rey closes and locks the door behind her. She’s not really sure why she’s intent on sneaking around, but she doesn’t quite know how to deal with the reality of her _husband_ yet. The shower has been used semi-recently she notes as she undresses and steps into it, water droplets still running down the stall. It takes her several moments to figure out how to work his shower, but once she does the water comes out perfectly warm. It’s a nice change from her old shower that was either too hot or too cold. She showers quickly, stepping out and grabbing a towel off the rack. Rey dries off, moving to put her clothes on, and that’s when she realizes that she forgot to bring any underwear. She has a moment of panic, heart-pumping uncertainty coursing through her veins. It wasn’t that bad, though, she realizes as rationality slowly comes back. She just needs to go back to her room and get them, and hope he doesn’t see.

Quietly, she pulls the door open, holding her clothes and towel against her body. There’s a _million_ doors stretched out in the hall before her, though, and she can’t for the life of her remember which one leads to her room. She bites her lip, crossing her cold legs.

“Something the matter?” a voice comes from her side. She turns quickly, finding Kylo leaning against the wall, a cup of coffee in hand.

“I can’t—“ she has to pause to clear her suddenly dry throat, “I can’t remember which room is mine.”

He raises his chin pointing to one of the rooms behind him, and she quickly moves past him, ducking into her room. She looks out at him one last time as she shuts the door behind her, and he’s giving her that same sardonic smirk that she’s quickly beginning to hate. So she closes the door with a bang, locking it behind her.

When she comes out, fully dressed, Kylo is nowhere to be found. She doesn’t exactly want to go searching for him, but she wishes he were there to explain his labyrinth of an apartment. She makes it to the living room eventually, and she has to stop when she gets there, staring, with her mouth gaping out the windows—it’s a pent house apartment, and one wall is all window. It’s gorgeous, the city stretched out below her. She smells coffee, so she follows the scent to the kitchen. And there he is, reading a paper at a table. He looks up when she walks in, and smirks again when he sees her.

“Nice to see you can wear clothes after all. Though you did look nice in that towel,” he says, turning his attention back to the paper and bringing his coffee cup back to his lips. She glares at the side of his head, wanting desperately to give him a piece of her mind. Rey’s useless before she’s had her coffee, though, and she’s not about to get into a verbal sparing match with him without some caffeine in her blood stream.

Once she has a cup of coffee—secretly thanking him for not having small cups— and a piece of toast in hand she hesitates. She’s not sure if she should join him at the table or go eat somewhere by herself. If she was going to be married to this man, though, she should at least try to get to know him. Even if, from what she knows of him, he’s an annoying prick. Somewhat awkwardly, she pulls out the chair across from his, drinking her coffee down in large gulps.

“So, um,” she starts hesitantly, and she hates that she’s so unsure around him, waiting for him to give her his attention, which he gives her quickly. “Can we talk?”

“What do you want to talk about?” he questions, like he can’t believe that _talking_ is something she could possible want from him. He seems disinterested, and she wonders if he wants to have any kind of relationship with her at all, even if that relationship is only friendship. They’re married, for crying out loud, living together; she knew their relationship wasn’t convention in the slightest, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t try.  

“You. Me. I don’t know anything about you and we’re married,” she reminds him and it’s hard to hide the frustration that leaks into her voice. Can’t he understand that this is difficult for her? No, because he didn’t know her and that was exactly the problem.

To her surprise, he drops his hold on the paper, folding it to the side. “I know a lot about you already. My grandfather told me about the girl he thinks is going to rival Obi Wan Kenobi for skill. I know you’re finishing you degree at Jakku Law School top of your class.”

She shakes her head quickly, putting a stop to anything else he was going to say. “I’m not talking about stuff like that. I know you’re one of the best lawyers in the business, I know you graduated top of your class at Yavin Law School, but that doesn’t mean I know _you_. I want to know what you like and what you hate. I want to meet your mother. I want to feel like I’m a part of your life, so you can start by telling me just a little bit about yourself.”

“There’s not much else to tell,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. His gaze is intense on her face, gaze completely consumed on her, but he makes no indication that he intends to keep talking.

She sighs. “Fine, I’ll tell you about me then. I love watching sunsets. I’m not a morning person. I’ve been fixing a 1925 Millennium Falcon in my spare time at my friend’s garage and I like doing mechanic work.” She looks at him expectantly, hoping that he’ll reward her small amount of honesty with some of his own.

Kylo shakes his head, looking incredulous, but he opens his mouth anyway. “I fence in my spare time, I’ve been doing it since I was younger. My uncle taught me. All I’ve ever wanted to do is make my grandfather proud, carry on his legacy.”

Rey’s surprised by how candid he managed to be with her. “Thank you,” she says. It wasn’t much, but what he had given her was a start. She hadn’t been expecting him to tell her anything, if she was being honest, and she finds herself oddly happy that he shared as much as he did. That’s enough for today, on both their parts. She’s not ready to divulge her whole sordid past to him, and she was sure he felt the same way about her. All in all, they’d spent about four hours in each other’s company; she wanted to build a relationship, not dive head first into one. She finishes her breakfast, and he goes back to his paper; it’s somewhat awkward, and she catches him looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She looks at him when he’s not looking at her, studying him. Rey notices that when he focuses on her, his gaze is intense, like he can’t tear his eyes away from her, like it’s a struggle to focus back on his paper.

“I’m going to go to the garage today,” she announces after a moment, pushing back from the table and carrying her dishes to the sink before turning back to him. “Oh, and by the way, enjoy that picture you have of me in a towel, cause that’s the most you’ll ever see.” She doesn’t wait to see his reaction, preferring to leave quickly so he can’t see the red that tinges her cheeks.

She grabs her phone and her purse, finding the front door easily now that she has some sense of the layout of the apartment. It’s only when she’s halfway to Poe’s garage that she realizes she doesn’t know Kylo’s address—her address now. She finds his number in her phone, sending his a quick text asking him for it. The garage is open and waiting for her when she gets there, even though Poe’s nowhere in sight. He was in the Air Force and really just had the garage as a side business, but even that description was generous. It was mostly where Poe, Finn, and Rey hung out. They’d been hanging out there since Rey and Finn had graduated high school and when the old owner sold the place, Poe had bought it with the money his parent’s had saved for him for college. It was completely ridiculous of him, but Rey was glad that he’d done it.

Rey runs a hand over her car before moving to grab her jumpsuit and tools. _What a weird way to spend my first day as a married woman_ , she muses with no small amount of amusement. There’s an ease to her motions, to the work that she does. It’s comfortable, especially after her life had been virtually turned upside down. It was nice to do something completely normal, something she’d been doing for what seemed like forever, and not think about the fact that she was married.

“Rey,” she hears a voice say hours later when her hands are covered in oil and under the car. She hits her head in her haste to roll out from under it, but she doesn’t care when she spots Finn and Poe smiling at her, holding hands, looking for all the world like the happiest newlywed couple in the world.

She jumps up, running to hug them both, forgetting in her haste that she’s covered in oil, but they don’t seem to care, hugging her just as fiercely as she hugs them. “How was the honeymoon?” she asks when she pulls away, smiling so that her teeth show.

“As good as a tour of military museums can be,” Finn jokes, smiling fondly at his husband even as Poe rolls his eyes and mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

They sit talking for hours, Rey tinkering with her car. She’d missed them, even if they’d only been gone for a week. They were the closest thing to family she had, and it was weird to go a week without seeing them at all. It’s nice to have them back again, nice to be in the same room as them, even if they’re annoyingly lovey with each other. She forgets that she has news to tell them too. Very important news, the news of her own marriage.

A throat clears behind them suddenly, making all of their heads swivel towards the direction of the noise. She stands up quickly when she sees Kylo standing there, looking awkward and out of place in the space. “Hi,” she breathes, walking over to him. “What are you doing here?”

“It was getting late and you never answered my text. I wanted to make sure you made it home alright,” he swallows visibly, eyes darting to her friends behind her as she pulls out her phone to check the message from him.

 _I can pick you up, if you want_ , it reads. She wonders how he found her—she was sure she didn’t say which garage she was going to. Then again, he’d known where her apartment was too.

“Ben Solo?” Poe asks from behind her, and she turns to him in shock.

“You know him?” she knows she sounds incredulous as she says it, but really, how else was she supposed to react?

“Poe,” Kylo greets, a strange tone entering his voice. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” Poe agrees, moving up behind her. “Your mother misses you.”

Rey’s gaze swings back and forth between the two men, looking at Finn but he only shrugs his shoulders at her. “Does someone want to tell us how the hell you two know each other?”

“Ben and I practically grew up together. We were best friends until he decided to leave home with that no good excuse for a—“

“We don’t need to get into all the gory details,” Kylo cuts in. “Suffice to say we know each other.”

“What are you doing _here_ , Ben?” Poe prods, hand falling protectively on her arm.

“Um, you guys I have kind of big news to tell you,” she pauses pursing her lips, wondering how she’s supposed to tell her best friends that she married her boss. “Kylo and I got married.”

“Kylo?” Poe questions right as Finn yells, “Married?” They look at each other, then Poe yells, “Married?”

“I don’t go by my birth name anymore,” Kylo explains.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Not after what happened,” there’s something in Poe’s voice, something she’s never heard before. His hand is griping her arm now, like he wants to run away with her. She waits for him to explain, for Kylo to explain, but they just stare each other down.

“Regardless, Rey and I are married now,” Kylo says finally.

“We heard that part, but that’s not an explanation,” Finn says. “When did this happen?”

“Yesterday,” she answers. “It was sort of sudden.”

“Have you even told her?” Poe asks, angrier than she’s ever heard him, all of his attention focused on Kylo and not what she’s telling Finn.

“Told me what?” she asks, wishing that one of them would stand down long enough to explain what the hell was going on.

“Not here, Rey,” Kylo growls, but it sounds like a plea. “Not now.”

“You’re going to have to tell her whatever it is eventually, whatever it is,” Finn interjects. “Women have a way of knowing when men are lying.”

Kylo blanches at the words, like they physically hurt him to hear. “Let’s go home, Rey. Grandfather wants us to have breakfast with him tomorrow.” He leaves as quickly as he came, not gracing her friends with so much as another glance. She bids them goodbye, promising to call them so she could explain better, hurrying after Kylo.

“You were rude to my friends,” she starts the moment she sees him standing by a too-expensive car. “You could have at least—they care about me. Getting married isn’t the small thing you seem to think it is. It’s not just a means to some end. My friends deserve to know why I got married suddenly.”

“Then you should have told them,” he spits out. “You were certainly with them long enough.”

“Ugh! You’re impossible,” she grounds out, getting into the car and glaring at him as he starts it and pulls into the street easily. They sit in silence, Kylo weaving in and out of traffic and her glaring at him steadily.

They’re stopped at a red light when he finally says, “I’m sorry. I was…surprised to see Poe there. I didn’t know you were friends with him.”

“What happened between the two of you?” she can’t help but ask, even if she’s taken aback that he actually apologized to her. She wouldn’t have thought he would be the type to apologize, at least not based on everything she’d ever heard about him.

He swallows and runs a hand through his hair nervously. His voice shakes when he says, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” She knows she’s yelling, but she can’t seem to make the tone of her voice go lower. All the stress of the past couple of days has built up, finally coming out. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re married. Are you ever going to want to talk about it?”

“It’s not a real marriage,” he defends.

She breathes through her nose, trying to calm down. “We’re going to be stuck with each other for three years. Is it really so horrible that I want to know just a little bit about the person I married?”

“Fine,” he growls, pulling over to the side of the road, unbuckling so he can face her. “My father’s dead and it’s all my fault. Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you wanted to know? I’m responsible for killing my father.”

A shaky breath leaves her. Whatever she’d thought Poe could have been talking about, it would never have been that. Never would she have guessed that he killed his father. She’s shocked silent. He buckles again, turning away from her and driving them back to his apartment. She follows him up mechanically, setting her bag down on the entryway table. He moves to another table, pouring himself a drink and swallowing it in one gulp.

“What happened?” she asks finally when they’ve both had a couple of drinks because he hasn’t looked at her since they were in the car, and she needs to know, and that seems like the best place to start.

When he looks at her, his eyes are red and he looks surprised to see her still standing there. He pours another glass and holds it out for her, and she takes it gratefully. “I was recruited to join the Knights of Ren.”

“The fencing team?” she clarifies, something niggling at the back of her mind. She’s heard of them, she knows she has. “Snoke’s team?”

“Yeah. My parents didn’t want me to do it. Cheating scandals and all that,” he tries and fails to sound blasé as he says it, and she remembers then what she knew of Snoke and his team—cheating was just the start of all he’d been accused of. She doesn’t know if she should try to comfort him or not, if he would appreciate any of her attempts. “They wanted me to stay in my uncle’s league, the New Jedi Order. I didn’t want to listen. Snoke kept telling me my parents and my uncle were holding me back. So I ran away from home.”

“How old were you?” she breathes out, because that seems like an important detail and she can’t think of anything else to ask.

He only hesitates a moment before he answers. “I was fifteen.”

Rey nods, swallowing down—with the help of some much-needed alcohol—the sudden lump in her throat. _So young,_ she thinks. She can’t quite understand it, can’t understand why someone would leave a home—provided that home was good of course—with a family. But that was her own experience talking.

“I cut off all ties,” he continues, the words pouring out of him suddenly. “Snoke said they would only continue to hold me back if I kept having anything to do with them. I changed my name. And Snoke was right. I shot to fencing stardom. I was invited to the Olympics. People knew who I was, and I’d never had that before him. When I was twenty, my father came. My mother had begged him to bring me home apparently. I hadn’t been expecting him, not after all that time. They’d never tried to contact me either, you know? And there he was, begging me to come home. The tip of my foil had fallen off. I turned to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm and turned me around. My foil went through him,” he cuts off finally, sobbing, hanging his head in his hands, and turns his body away from her.

“I’m sorry,” she finally says, because that seems like all she can say. She refills his drink, picking his empty glass up off the ground, just to have something to do with her hands; she’s never exactly been good at the comforting thing. She pours herself some more as well, drinking it down and pouring another one. When his tears cut off, he takes the drink from her gratefully, gulping it down quickly, and she asks, “What happened after?”

He breathes, deep and shaky, getting himself another drink, before answering. “I left the league. I couldn’t go to the funeral because I couldn’t face my mother. I haven’t seen her since. My grandfather took care of the case. My mother never showed up, and the judge ruled it was an accident. I always wondered,” his voice drops and she has to strain to hear it, “if maybe a part of me wanted to hurt him.”

It’s so much, so fast to take in, and she doesn’t know what to do with all of this, doesn’t know how to comfort a man she basically just met. “You regret it, though.”

“Yes,” Kylo answers quickly, wiping away a stray tear, looking nothing like the stoic lawyer she was used to seeing in flashes and glances. “If I could go back and never leave home, I would.”

He looks so sad, so lost, and her brain is muddled by alcohol. All she can think is that she wants him to not be sad anymore, and she really wants a better kiss than the one she got and it seems like both of those things could work together.

She places hand on his shoulder and leans in, pressing her lips against the corner of his mouth. He almost jumps back from her in shock and she scrambles away. “Sorry, sorry,” she mutters, making a quick exit to her room. He doesn’t follow her, and she sleeps in fits and starts, tossing and turning all night. Rey can hear him moving around the apartment, which doesn’t help her with the sleeping thing at all.

* * *

Rey glares at the sun outside her window when knocking on her door wakes her up. It’s really far too early to be awake, she can tell. She’s ready to go back to sleep and ignore the persistent knocking, at least for a little while longer. She’s still not sure how she feels about her husband being responsible for someone’s death, even if, from what he had told her, it had been an accident.

“Rey,” the sound of her name comes soft and tentative through the door, the sound of the husband-in-question’s unmistakable tenor reaching her. “We have breakfast with my grandfather in an hour.”  

There’s nothing much for her to do at that but wake up. She gathers her clothes—if she has to be awake, she’s going to take a shower—and when she pulls open the door, Kylo is standing there, waiting for her with a cup of coffee in hand. He holds it out to her, and she gladly accepts, pushing past him to the bathroom. He’d been paying attention to her the day before she realizes when she takes the first sip. It’s almost perfect, almost exactly the way she likes it. When she comes out, fully dressed and her hair in its usual three buns, he’s waiting for her still.

“About last night,” he starts and hesitates before continuing, “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I thought once you knew who I really was you would know, but you didn’t say anything so I thought maybe you didn’t know after all. When I knew you didn’t know, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“I understand,” she replies, even if she really isn’t done processing what he told her the night before. She understands why he wouldn’t feel comfortable telling her that he was responsible for his own father’s death. “I’m sorry for making you tell me before you were ready.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he’s quick to reassure her, “you did nothing wrong. I should have told you from the start.”

“Well, it’s over now. And I know now, so…” she trails off, not sure what else to say.

“You can leave if you want,” he reassures her. “I’ll explain to my grandfather if that’s what you want.”

“You didn’t want to marry me,” she states suddenly, and it’s not a question.

“No,” he confesses readily. “I don’t like being forced to do anything. It’s nothing to do with you.”

“I thought you were going to fire me,” she admits, laughing a little at the memory. “I was terrified.”

“Why would you think that?” He looks completely baffled that she could have ever thought such a thing.

“No one gets called into your office unless they’re about to be fired,” she tells him, tilting her head to the side a little.

Kylo sputters. “I don’t fire _everyone_ that gets called into my office.”

“You fire enough people that it seems like a pattern,” Rey says.

“Let’s go to breakfast,” he declares, clearly trying to change the subject. He’s pushed his hair back behind one of his ears, and she can see that the tip is tinged red. It’s sort of…cute.

She follows him down the hall, grabbing her purse from where she’d left it the night before. “The first month I worked at the firm, I didn’t even know your name. I just referred to you as the guy who fired a lot of people.” Kylo huffs indignantly as she laughs at the look on his face.

* * *

On Monday, Kylo introduces her to the board, calling her into the meeting in front of everyone, and _God_ her co-workers were all going to hate her. She hadn’t told anyone they were married yet, but if the murderous looks being sent her way at being privileged enough to be invited into a board meeting were any indication, they were not going to take it well.  

“It’ll be nice to have a Kenobi as partner again,” one of the older board members whispers to another member, flashing Rey a quick look. Rey pretends that she didn’t hear.

Rey knew what had led up to her grandfather breaking away from the firm, but it was all second hand information. The firm had quickly become successful, Padmé, Anakin, and Obi Wan getting nation wide recognition. They were the go to firm, defending the people who couldn’t defend themselves. Then the President had come to them—President Palpatine—acting like he’d been the one wronged, like he couldn’t possibly be guilty of murdering General Mace Windu. Padmé and Obi Wan had both refused when they saw Palpatine’s policy records, he wasn’t the type of person they stood for, but Anakin hadn’t agreed with them. He’d supported Palpatine, defending him. It ended badly. Padmé died, even if no one quite knew how that had happened; no one really ever talked about that. When Anakin decided to continue to defend Palpatine because the President claimed it was an accident, Obi Wan left the firm. Permanently. That was all anyone there knew. Anakin eventually dropped Palpatine’s case, but it was too late; it was only after Palpatine tried to have Anakin’s son Luke murdered that Anakin broke from Palpatine completely, but Obi Wan an Padmé were both already dead. He kept Padmé and Obi Wan’s names as part of the firm’s title, though.

No one but her knew what happed to Obi Wan afterwards. He joined a smaller firm, changed his name to Ben so that people wouldn’t know it was him. He married the woman he’d always loved—Satine—and they’d been happy together. They’d has a daughter, her mother, who ran away from home with her father. They’d abandoned Rey when she was five; she’d spend years meticulously researching her grandfather, and she decided when she was seventeen that she wanted to be a lawyer like him.

She wonders what Obi Wan would think of her, that she’d married into the family of the man he’d left behind.

“Well, everything seems to be in order, then. Kylo will be able to take control of both his grandparent’s shares. Rey will take over her grandfather’s shares once she’s finished her degree. Together, you’ll own fifty percent of the firm. Congratulations on your marriage you two,” another member speaks, eyes still looking over the paperwork in front of him.

* * *

When the meeting is over, Kylo stops her from leaving with everyone else. She sends him a questioning look, but he only shakes his head at her. “Let’s go,” he says finally, pulling the door open for her. She walks out, and everyone’s gaze is fixed on them, especially when his hand comes to rest on the small of her back.

“Everyone,” he says, “If I could have your attention. Rey and I were married on Friday.” There are calls of _what_ , excited squeals intermingled with the repeated question. Kylo ignores them, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Come to lunch with me?”

She nods, moving to grab her coat and purse from her desk, not answering any questions thrown her way. Rey knows she’ll have to explain to them eventually, but she’s not quite sure yet how she’s going to explain what happened. She hadn’t even called Finn or Poe yet to explain. How do you tell people you married a stranger? Kylo certainly hadn’t explained the circumstances of their marriage to the board. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to tell them. She resolves to ask Kylo during their lunch. When she walks by Phasma’s office to get to him, the woman inclines her head at her with the closest thing to a smile Rey has ever seen on her face.

When she does finally broach the subject of her question, he’s incredibly difficult.

“Whatever you want,” he answers, bringing his fork to his mouth, like that solves anything.

“You’re the opposite of helpful,” she groans. “Should I tell them we married each other so you could get your inheritance and I could get all my debt paid off?”

He looks at her, something like realization dawning on his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them that.”

* * *

She calls Poe that night to tell him and Finn the story. She wishes she could tell them the truth, but maybe it’s best for now—she’s a little ashamed, if she’s being honest, that she didn’t marry for love. So she tells Finn and Poe that she _did_ marry for love. She tells that that she’d been seeing Kylo in secret because they didn’t want anyone to think she was getting special treatment. They hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of their marriage either; they were both so busy between work and school that they didn’t have time for a big marriage. She apologizes profusely for not waiting for them to get back. They want to have a small party, just the four of them, they promise.

“I’ll have to ask Kylo,” she replies. She’s not sure how comfortable Poe or Kylo will be around each other, and she doesn’t want to agree without asking him. “But we can always do something the three of us if he doesn’t want to come.”

“If it will make you happy, we can do that. I promise I’ll be nice to your friends. As long as it stays small,” Kylo says. She asked him immediately after she got of the phone. In her excitement, that he’s at least willing to hand out with her friends and that Poe was the one to suggest it, she bounds across the room, kissing him on the cheek. They look at each other in surprise as she moves away, but he smiles. And it’s a start.

They go out with her friends two weeks later, and they have _fun_. Kylo and Poe glare at each other occasionally, but soon they’re all laughing and joking. When they go to leave, Poe pulls her aside. “I wasn’t sure if you two could really be in love with someone, especially since you’ve never talked about it. And I never thought _he_ would fall in love. But seeing the way he looks at you…” he trails off hesitating before smiling and continuing, “no one could doubt it.”

She almost tells him there, a sick feeling twisting her gut that he believes in her lie so much that he’s deceive himself. But she doesn’t want to tell him; something in her preens at the thought that Kylo might be starting to care for her. She’s not naïve enough to believe that he _loves_ her, but they were getting closer. He made an effort to talk to her, trading with her knowledge about him. She was oddly comfortable with him but even if they knew each other better now they were still basically strangers. Rey knew with utter certainty that she wasn’t in love with him yet, but she liked him, liked spending time with him. So she smiles at Poe, hugging him and Finn goodbye in turn.

* * *

A few weeks later, Kylo announces that he’s going to take her out for her birthday. If she was being honest, she’d forgotten that it was coming up at all, distracted by everything going on in her life. She’d gotten used to not celebrating it when she was young, but she wanted to spend it with him. The morning of her birthday—mercifully a Sunday so she doesn’t have to work—she feels flushed and hot and sticky, nauseous and dizzy. She ignores it though; she can be sick tomorrow, she tells herself. She wouldn’t miss this day for the world. She’s got plans, see, big plans. She was going to ask her husband if he wanted to date her, and she wasn’t going to let a little stomach ache stop her.

She stops dead in her tracks when she gets into the kitchen. Poe and Finn are sitting at the table with Kylo, wearing ridiculous party hats and smiling at her. There’s cake and coffee and _presents_. She rushes over, taking the offered cup of coffee, chattering excitedly before the caffeine even hits her. For a while, she forgets that she doesn’t feel well. She cuts herself a huge piece of cake, cutting off much smaller pieces for the three men, smiling cheekily. They accept the proffered pieces without complaint, smiling fondly at her in turn.

Poe and Finn present her with the parts that were missing from her car that she hadn’t been able to afford and a few books she’d been meaning to read. She hugs the presents to her chest, grabbing for the last bag on the table.

Kylo’s present to her is the smallest, a little blue box. She opens it and two ring boxes come out. “Open that one first,” Kylo directs, looks a little unsure. She pops open the one he indicated to find a beautiful diamond nestled in the fabric. It’s not overly large, but she knows it was expensive.

“It’s perfect,” she breathes, putting it on her left hand.

“I’m sorry it took so long to get it to you,” he mutters, running his hand through his hair. She shakes her head at him; she hadn’t even thought of getting a ring, and no one had mentioned her lack of one. The other box holds a simple band that matches the diamond ring perfectly. She slides the other ring off so that the wedding band can rest under the diamond, and looks up to see that he’s showing her a matching band on his left hand.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling, looking down at her new rings. If she’d chosen them herself, they were what she would have picked. They were simple but beautiful and she loves them. She wonders if he’ll let her keep them if they get divorced when the three years were up—but what would be the point? She wouldn’t be able to wear them anymore, so it didn’t really matter. Poe and Finn leave after they’ve finished; Finn has work, even if the rest of them don’t.

“That’s what you get for being an EMT,” she teases him. You have to work all the time. When they’re gone, she turns back to Kylo who is cleaning up the table. “Thank you. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad,” he murmurs.

Rey goes to get ready, swallowing down some stomach medicine. The cake certainly had done nothing to help the rolling in her gut. Kylo takes her out shopping. Every time she expresses an interest in something, he moves to buy it for her and it’s utterly ridiculous. She doesn’t need a ton of crap, she was just happy to be spending time with him. Walking seemed to be helping her stomach settle, anyway, and that was certainly a blessing.

“You don’t have to buy my all this stuff,” she protests when he tries to grab a book out of her hand and she just knows he’s going to buy it for her and she wasn’t even sure if she wanted it that much.

“It’s your birthday. You deserve to be spoiled,” he returns, not loosening his hold on the book in the slightest.

“It’s alright,” she says, “I’ve already gotten more than I’ve ever had.”

Kylo lets go of the book at that, shaking his head at her in mock exasperation. “I’m your husband, you should let me spoil you.”

“I don’t need to be spoiled. When I get made partner, I’ll spoil you though,” she teases.

He just shakes his head at her again, smiling at her fondly, pressing his hands into his pockets. “Fine, I won’t buy you anything else.”

* * *

He takes her to a restaurant that is entirely too fancy. She’s struck with nervousness, suddenly understanding why he bought her an incredibly expensive dress and pushed her to put it on. Rey is absolutely certain she is going to say or do something wrong, and she’s going to be the laughing stock of the restaurant for years and years. She’ll never be able to show her face in public—her thoughts cut off when Kylo grabs her hand suddenly.

“You shouldn’t be worrying on your birthday,” he soothes, pulling her closer to him when another couple moves past them. She tries not to notice how good he smells, the scent of his now familiar cologne flooding her senses. They move into the restaurant, a table already ready for them. Kylo pulls her seat out for her, sitting himself and opening his menu with a flourish and it feels like a date. She realizes this is the first time they’ve been out for dinner without Anakin or Finn and Poe. Knowing she probably won’t get caught, she lets her eyes wander over his face. When the waiter comes to take their order, in her haste to act like she hasn’t been staring, she points to the first things her eyes land on.

They make polite dinner conversation, asking about cases and school as they usually do. He looks concerned, she notes, his gaze sweeping over his face. She does feel worse again now that she’s sitting down. Trying to reassure him that she’s fine, she raises her wine glass to her mouth. It’s only then that she realizes her hand is shaking. She can only hope that he doesn’t notice.

“You look flushed,” he notes finally, eyebrow raised. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, fine,” she says quickly. “Never been better.”

He doesn’t look like he believes her, but the waiter comes out with their food. The lobster that she’d ordered looks divine, but when it’s placed in front of her, she knows she’s made a terrible mistake. Nausea comes quick and horrible at the smell and she has to push her chair out, nearly stumbling several times in her haste to make it to the restroom in time. She empties her stomach into the toilet, thankful through her bout of sickness that she made it to the restroom in time. _Fuck my life_ is the thought that runs through her mind over and over. Cool hands suddenly flutter against her hot neck; when she turns her head, she catches a glimpse of Kylo’s familiar hair. When she finally stops throwing up, she pushes him away from her, able to be embarrassed that he saw her like that. He ignores her, instead sweeping a hand under her knees and scooping her into his arms gently.

He carries her out to his car and she presses her face into his chest so no one can see her mortification. She hears several people asking if she’s okay, but she doesn’t pay attention to his responses, just enjoys the feel of being cradled against his body. She hears him tell the hostess to put the meal on his tab. The cool night air is heaven against her face when they get outside and he packs her gently into the car. When he puts a finger under her chin to draw her gaze up to him, but she looks away from him. Finally, he gives up, closing her door and reappearing at his own side moments later.

“I have a friend who’s a doctor. He lives five blocks from here,” he tells her, pulling into traffic. “We’ll go get you checked out.”

“That’s not necessary,” she protests weakly, clutching at her stomach.

Kylo’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Yes it is,” and she knows from his tone that there will be no budging him from his current task.

She protests when he tries to carry her into the office when he gets there, but she’s persistent too. He keeps a steadying hand around her waist, and for that she _is_ grateful. There’s a dour looking ginger man sitting at the front, simultaneously looking bored and expectant.

“Ren,” he greets. “And you must be the little wife,” he acknowledges her with disdain and a curl of his upper lip. 

“Hux,” Kylo warns, his voice a low growl.

“Let’s get you checked out, then,” Hux says with a sigh, walking with his hands in his pockets into an examination room. “I was having a nice night at home. I hope you appreciate this, Ren,” he says as he moves around the room, washing his hands and putting on gloves.

She has a stomach flu, a diagnosis she could have guessed; what sucks is that he tells her she has a 24-hour flu because of course she got it on her birthday. Hux orders her to rest for at least a couple of days, even if she doesn’t feel sick anymore, and his look says he’ll personally hunt her down if she doesn’t do as he says. She excuses herself to the restroom, she really needs to wash out her mouth and get away from the concerned looks Kylo keeps sending her. When she’s done, she walks back to the room, the cracked door allowing voices to come through, and she stops when she hears what Kylo is saying.

“Relationships are a weakness I can’t afford. A distraction. We’ll only ever be married in name only,” he says with utter surety to his friend, and she sinks to the floor, dread filling her. She’d known he felt that way, figured that was how he felt, from the beginning, but it’s different to hear it know after they’ve spent so long together. Especially when she’d been hoping—but hoping had failed her. 

_What did I get myself into?_

* * *

Months later, everything has changed between them. The fragile relationship they’d been building all but gone. She doesn’t try to talk to him as much as she did before the incident, and he doesn’t take her out on any more dates, maybe because she does her best to avoid him, coming and going when she knows he won’t be there. They’re virtual strangers once more, living together in what has to be the oddest arrangement, and she’s nervous around him, angry at him for she doesn’t even know what. She’s angry at him for what he said to his friend, sure, but maybe she’s more angry at herself for believing he would ever feel anything more for her than that she was a means to an end.

One night, she’s spread out across the living room, paper and books everywhere. Kylo’s working on a case, so she knows he won’t be home for hours.

But the door opens at eleven, right when she’s really frustrated about a case study and ready to give up on all of it. “Rough night?” he asks.

She ignores him, focusing on her work. Kylo moves into the kitchen and out of view. “Rey?” he calls, the tone of his voice making her look up at him when he comes back into the room with a glass of water.

“Yeah?” she asks, letting her annoyance at her work and his interruption and his inability to take a hint seep into her voice.

“You haven’t talked to me in forever,” he starts, looking at her like he expects her to explain.

“So?” she questions flippantly.

“You were the one that wanted _me_ to talk to _you_ ,” he answers, annoyance crossing his brow now.

“If you never wanted to talk to me, me no longer wanting to talk to you shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” She starts packing up her books and papers while he stares at her, apparently at a loss for words. It’s only when she strides to her room that he starts to follow her.

“Rey,” he calls right as she closes the door, pushing her body against it. “Rey,” he says again. She hears him sink to the floor outside her door. “I don’t know why you’re so angry at me.”

She doesn’t answer, but a tear treks down her check unwarranted. Only when she hears him leave does she get up. She packs her suitcase with a week worth of clothes, decided on her path. She’ll come back in a week. She just…needs to be away from him for a little while. The past couple of months had been awful; she’d played his words to Hux over and over and over in her head, and she just needed a break. She’ll leave in the morning.

* * *

“I’m going to stay with Finn and Poe for a little while,” she says by way of good morning when he comes into the kitchen. He nods his head, resignedly. “I’ll see you at work.” She grabs her suitcase on her way out, sparing one glance at his turned back. He doesn’t look back at her, makes no move or sound to stop her, and that more than anything propels her out the door.

* * *

One week quickly turns into two. Rey is almost positive Finn and Poe are getting tired of her, but they’re both too nice to say anything. She’d told them the truth when she’d shown up at their door; they hadn’t gotten angry with her for lying, like she’d thought they might, just hugged her and invited her in. She barely saw him at work and when she did, she stubbornly turned away from him; she knew people were gossiping about them, but she didn’t care. It was hard to be away from him, though, took all of her willpower to not go to the place she’d come to think of as home.

Anakin invites her out to lunch and she doesn't have the heart to refuse him. He asks her what's going on, asks her if everything is all right, because he'd though that her and Kylo had been getting closer, but she assures him that nothing is wrong and everything's fine, she just wanted to spend some time with her friends. His look tells her he doesn't believe her and as he walks away, she hears him mumbling something about having a nice long talk with his grandson.  

One night, she’s staying late at the firm to finish up her work, if only because he wasn’t there. He had a major case, and she wouldn’t see him. When she’s about to leave, though, she feels eyes on the back of her head and when she turns there he is. He strides across the room toward her. “Are you every going to tell me why you’re angry at me?”

“I heard what you said to Hux,” she confesses, and it feels so good to have it out in the open. “I know I’m just a means to an end for you. I just—I need time to process that alright.”

Kylo looks stricken, like she ran a laser sword over his face or something. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he whispers.

“I figured as much,” she returns, crossing her arms and looking away from him.

“No, you don’t understand,” he breathes, and it makes her looks at him. “I lied,” he admits.

“What?”

“I lied,” he repeats. “I didn’t want him to know how I felt.”

“How you felt? Why wouldn’t you want your friend to know?” she doesn’t understand any of this.

“I like you. Really like you,” he hardly gives her a chance to process _that_ before he presses on, “And he’s not so much a friend as a…former colleague.”

“Huh?” is her very intelligent reply.

He looks ashamed as he answers, “He was one of the manager’s for the Knights of Ren.”

“Oh,” she says, scrunching her brow. “But why didn’t you want him to know…” she trails off, finishing the thought in her head; _that you like me? Like,_ like _me like me?_ She plays with the rings on her hand—a new habit she’d picked up—as she waits for his answer.

Kylo shrugs, embarrassed, “He knows enough about my time with the Knights that I’d prefer he wasn’t privy to any other private information.”

“Oh,” she repeats.

“I’m so sorry, Rey,” he whispers, stepping closer to her and wiping a stray strand of hair off of her face. “If I’d know you would hear it, I would never have said it.”

At that, Rey stretches up on the tips of her toes and kisses the corner of his mouth like she did the night he told her about his father, an acknowledgment that she accepted his apology. She wants more, though, wants the feel of his lips under hers, wants to actually kiss and make up with him.

“If you’re going to kiss me do it properly,” he says raggedly, and the invitation all it takes for her to finally slam her lips against his. They growl against each other’s lips, hands tangling into clothes and hair and she feels so much and not enough all at once. She wants more, so much more, and she finally lets herself feel it now that she knows he likes her too.

“Come home,” he begs when they pull away. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yes,” she answers easily, picking up her things and tugging him behind her. If they stayed, she might just let him _do_ her, for lack of a better way to phrase it, on her desk, and while she definitely wanted that eventually, she didn’t want their first time to be in the office. He drives her home—she’ll get her things from Finn and Poe later. He tries to concentrate on driving, but she doesn’t make it easy for him, running her hand up and down his thigh, pressing kisses against his neck.

They don’t make it to either of their rooms when they get home. Clothes fly off the minute the door is closed behind him, and they only make it to the living room floor. The glow of the city lights shine on them as he takes his time with her body, learning her every curve, learning what made her mewl, kissing and touching every bit of her. She comes the first time around his fingers, and she’s desperate for more. He’s happy to oblige her, moving over her body, letting her flip them so she’s on top, sinking onto him, slicked up enough from his ministrations to take him in one roll of her hips. Rey rides him for all she’s worth, basking in the feels and his touch all over her soothing and igniting passions in her all at once. She comes again moments before he does. When she wakes hours later, she’s in an unfamiliar bed, Kylo’s body wrapped around hers.

* * *

In the morning, he can’t stop touching her. She wears his shirt and he makes her coffee and eggs, telling her she’ll need the food for what he has planned. He’s already called in sick for both of them.

“Move in with me?” he asks suddenly when they’re sitting at the table together and his fingers are drawing circles on her bared leg.

“I already live with you,” she reminds him, smiling all the while, taking a bite of the eggs.

“Into my room, I mean,” he corrects, heat rising visibly to the tips of his ears. She moves into his lap, tangling her fingers into his oh-so-touchable hair and pulls him down for a sweet kiss.

“Yes,” she answers finally. “Of course.”

“I’d like to date you,” he continues, smiling happily at her answer.

“I’d like that too,” she says, smiling with her whole face, and he responds by kissing her silly.

* * *

Two weeks later, she’s late for a party, rushing to get there. When she walks in, Kylo is bent over, talking to a little woman, Anakin standing close and smiling at the pair. Even from across the room, she can see the similarities in all three of their features. Like he knows she’s there, Kylo turns, scanning the room until his eyes land on her. He smiles when he sees her, gesturing for her to come over. She moves across the room quickly; he grabs her hand, lacing his fingers with hers when she’s close enough to her.

“Mom,” he says, smiling widely and pulling Rey up next to him, “I’d like you to meet my wife.”

Rey steps forward, moving her arm to shake Leia’s hand, but Leia’s faster than her. She pulls Rey into her arms, hugging her fierce and tight. “You didn’t tell me she was gorgeous,” Leia says, smiling at her son, as she releases her hold on Rey.

Rey blushes and hears Kylo sputtering in embarrassment behind her. “I didn’t know you were coming,” she says finally.

“My father invited me,” Leia explains. “I thought if my son wouldn’t come to me, I’d have to go to him.”

“I’m glad,” Rey replies, conspiratorially. “I had planned on kidnapping him and driving him to your house, but that seemed a little drastic.”

“What have I done introducing the two of you?” Ben asks, but they ignore him, already discussing plans for Christmas and birthdays. Anakin just laughs, smiling at the three of them.

And it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Considering writing a second shorter chapter because I sort of imagine Anakin as a matchmaker for this, pressing his grandson to marry this great girl and I didn't get to write that cause it's all Rey's perspective :( Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading this monstrosity (it is the most I've ever written at once--25 pages!)!


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